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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894525">Train stations and Christmas miracles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsqueensroyalty/pseuds/kingsqueensroyalty'>kingsqueensroyalty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dating shenanigans at Oxbridge (Merlin) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur is neat, Bisexual Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), F/F, Gay Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Merlin is chaos, Oxbridge, a lot of trains, they work, they’re so soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:34:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsqueensroyalty/pseuds/kingsqueensroyalty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is forced into visiting his sister in Cambridge by his best friend, and her girlfriend, Gwen. When there, he’s introduced to Morgana’s best friend, Merlin.</p><p>Arthur’s never seen someone so beautiful.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dating shenanigans at Oxbridge (Merlin) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Train stations and Christmas miracles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don’t own Merlin and I’d recommend reading the first work as I love Gwen and Morgana plus their universe will make a little more sense.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur couldn’t believe this. He was being roped into visiting his sister Morgana, with Gwen. </p><p>He thought that after they broke up, that he wouldn’t be so willing to comply with Gwen’s every command. Instead, it seemed to have gotten worse. His only consolation was she had the effect on everyone. Whenever people were around Gwen they wanted to make her happy. She was so kind that everyone felt they had to be more so. </p><p>Normally that just meant more pleasant interactions for everyone, but this time - it meant Arthur was heading to Cambridge for the weekend.</p><p>Arthur had the once in a lifetime opportunity. A weekend where he didn’t have any History work due, and he was spending it with his sister and her girlfriend. They were great and he secretly loved them both, but having them together? They were sickening.</p><p>On the train journey there, it seemed Gwen was too busy texting Morgana in excitement for their impending time together. That left Arthur with a long journey and a limited number of songs on his phone to waste it. </p><p>He quickly sent Morgana a text, reading: ‘You’ve stolen my train companion.’ </p><p>To which, she concisely sent back: ‘:p’</p><p>Sighing and tilting his head back, he resigned himself to a journey of the same three albums on repeat and shifted uncomfortably as the cheap plastic of the trainseat’s headrest dug into his neck.</p><p>At some point he must’ve dozed off because he woke to his shoulder nearly being jostled out of its socket, feeling Gwen’s fingers digging in - causing a dull, flat plain. </p><p>He swatted with his other arm towards her general direct, looking to onlookers as if he was particularly peeved by a determined wasp.</p><p>Before full awareness returned to his nap addled mind, Arthur was pulled from his seat. Only just able to grab his khaki duffle bag in Gwen’s haste. </p><p>Then they were through the train’s doors and standing in the middle of the bustling station platform. Gwen’s head twisting this way and that way in search of her girlfriend, and Arthur just happy to be dragged along as it meant no navigation effort on his part.</p><p>Finding what, or rather who, she was looking for - Gwen began pulling more insistently on the worn sleeve of Arthur’s jacket.</p><p>He partly heard a squeal and the rather nauseating sounds of his sister and Gwen being reunited.</p><p>A clear sound of someone clearing their throat broke through his haze and got Arthur to look up. </p><p>‘Cheekbones.’ The first clear thought he’d had since he woke up and the only one buzzing around his mind as he looked at the dark haired man to the side of Morgana. His hand was out and waiting to be shaken in Arthur’s direction, and as he did, he couldn’t help but notice the aesthetically pleasing look of it.</p><p>“Merlin,” The man introduced himself with a grin, in a voice with a lilt that Arthur couldn’t help but smile at.</p><p>Suddenly horrifically aware of how the train window would’ve flattened his normally primped hair, and how he had worn the most distressed clothes in preparation of being a third wheel for the entire trip - Arthur tried to ignore the light burning of his face as he returned, “Arthur.”</p><p>Merlin nudged Morgana and Gwen apart, his disposition still slightly amused and happy to be in the world. Arthur suspected that this was just how he was, happy for no apparent reason. Arthur thought he could appreciate it, that he liked it.</p><p>“Morgana, aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely lady? Or are you going to leave me to introduce myself, like I had to with this gorgeous gent?” His leather jacket caught the fluorescent light of the station as he shifted, placing his hands in the pocket of his black jeans. </p><p>Which Arthur noticed were tight. </p><p>Morgana seemed to scoff and roll her eyes in one, steering Gwen’s shoulders to face Merlin. “Merlin, as you so aptly put it, this is my lovely lady. Gwen, this is my best friend Merlin - he is solely responsible for getting me through Cambridge and making it the worst time ever.”</p><p>With a smile that Arthur was sure could win awards, Merlin bowed with flourish. “An apt description,” Pause. “ Morgana’s told me a lot about you.”</p><p>Partially hiding her face in the crook of Morgana‘s neck, Gwen added, “And I you.” </p><p>Walking up the trainstation steps and back to civilization, the girls were caught up in one another. </p><p>This left Merlin talking to Arthur, a grin on his face that was a little more interested than the one directed at Gwen, a little more dangerous.</p><p>“Now, Morgana’s been holding out on me because she hasn’t mentioned you.” His chin was tilted low, eyelashes casting a dancing shadow. </p><p>He was incredible.</p><p>Arthur choked out a laugh, puffing his chest up in mock offront, “What? She hasn’t mentioned her little brother, light of her life?”</p><p>This earned him a laugh in return. It was the best sound he had ever heard. </p><p>“No. I-” Merlin’s expression was softer, but no less dangerous, “I would’ve remembered if she talked about you.”</p><p>“It’s a crime she hasn’t mentioned you to me before.” Arthur’s breath was stuck in his throat. Why did he say that?</p><p>“There’s something about you, Merlin.” Arthur leaned in and bumped their shoulders together before he lost his nerve. He began jogging up the last few steps and into the light of day, catching up with the girls. </p><p>Trying and failing to push what may have been in the glances between him and Merlin, out of his mind.</p><p>The group got to Merlin and Morgana’s halls mostly without error. Conversation was kept casual as the most intense, reunion style topics had already been covered in the station.</p><p>On the way, a stop to a sandwich shop had been made. Arthur convinced himself it didn’t mean anything that he was almost deathly aware of the fact Merlin got a salad sub, but he wouldn’t be able to recall Morgana or Gwen’s at gunpoint. </p><p>Cambridge’s grounds were well-kept, pretty and blandly similar to Oxford’s own. So it came as its own, overwhelming, relief to see the bursting personality shoved into Merlin’s small, box of a room.</p><p>Merlin’s consistent stream of conversation as he and Morgana had shown them around the halls, let Arthur in on a few tidbits of information about him. He was taking Ancient History, had met Morgana in their first year and was related to one of the staff in the Medicine department.</p><p>Gwen and Morgana had been pulled into the small, pokey, communal kitchen by another of the housemates. It seemed every person they had met on their way through the house, and subsequently introduced Gwen to, had congregated in the kitchen to know more about her.</p><p> </p><p>Standing in the second floor’s section of the stairwell, where they had come to escape the masses, Merlin and Arthur leaned against the wall. Arthur absent-mindedly kicking and scuffing at his duffle bag.</p><p>Merlin’s voice was as low as his own as they traded small stories of their own University experiences and childhood before that. </p><p>During one such story, Merlin’s voice burst out of him with startling intensity causing Arthur to miss judge his kick and send his bag flying into the step in front of him.</p><p>“A girl in primary tried to drown you in swimming lessons?” His expression was incredulous, like he suspected Arthur was having him on.</p><p>Arthur could only laugh lightly in response, “Geez, Merlin - with ears like yours you’d think you’d be able to listen to a simple story.”</p><p>A jokingly, affronted scowl and, “Never mind. You’re a prat, you deserved it - even if you were ten.”</p><p>“Hey now! I may be bad, but Sophia was pure evil. No one deserves her, I wouldn’t even set her on Morgana.”</p><p>“Oh wow. That must be bad.” As their chuckles died down, Arthur was struck by how beautiful Merlin looked in the light of the window. His pale skin seemed to glow and his hair was highlighted in a way that seemed to hypnotise Arthur into wanting to touch it.</p><p>Coming back out of his admirations, Arthur noted Merlin seemed pensive. “Want to head to my room?”</p><p>He picked up his duffle and gestured for Merlin to lead the way.</p><p>Turns out, Merlin’s room has a lot of plants. A lot. He likes plants. Plus tapestry style art; there were seemingly random pieces strung from various heights, in various sizes and colour schemes. His walls, ceilings and floors were covered.</p><p>It should’ve been utter chaos. Compared to Arthur’s own room that barely looked as if someone had moved in, with plain grey sheets and a single calendar pinned to the corkboard - it should’ve been driving him crazy. </p><p>And part of him did feel a need to organise and sort, but the bigger part of him was completely floored by how utterly Merlin the room was. Arthur had never been able to understand how people embedded personality into a room, but no one had ever done it as well as Merlin.</p><p>As he walked around the room, once again letting Merlin’s narrative fill the space, he trailed his fingers over the spines of books and the edges of hanging plant baskets. Arthur realised he wanted to lie in the middle of it all and let it surround him and wash the business of the rest of the world away.</p><p>Merlin helped him do that for the next half an hour. They sat shoulder to shoulder, pressed far too closely for two people who had only met that day, on Merlin’s standard issue, twin bed. Yet it felt right, it felt like being home - more than Arthur was in his own bed.</p><p>Morgana and Gwen came barrelling into the room, intending to drag them to the kitchen and socialize with the rest of the house, at the beginning of early evening. By their giggliness, volume and lack of coordination - they were tipsy</p><p>Arthur had sat with Merlin on the little bed facing the window. The one view in the room that wasn’t obscured by plants or tapestries, and watched as the world became painted in shades of pinks and oranges.</p><p>They headed to the kitchen, pushing and stumbling down the stairs - ignoring the girls’ squawk of ‘Children!’ and the questions surrounding how casually Arthur left his duffle in Merlin’s room. </p><p>The kitchen was small, oddly yellow and had a table with too many chairs and people around it, shoved into the corner under a window that showed the darkening sky. The girls’ fell into their chairs they had vacated to retrieve Arthur and Merlin, Gwen ending up more in Morgana’s lap than in her own chair. </p><p>Neither of them seemed to mind.</p><p>With a hand on the nape of Arthur’s neck, Merlin introduced him. Not as Morgana’s annoying little brother who he had been forced to babysit all day, but just as Arthur. </p><p>The way you introduced a friend, the way you introduced someone when you wanted the receiving group to like them. The way you introduced someone you liked.</p><p>A game of Ring of Fire was quickly set up, everyone had been at University for at least a year, so all of them knew the rules. As alcohol blurred the lines of what you could and couldn’t do with a friend you had just made, Arthur and Merlin’s sides ended up pressed together. </p><p>Their arms brushed whenever either of them had to take a drink, which was often anyways, but more commonplace once Merlin had named Arthur his drinking partner. </p><p>Grins were plastered on everyone’s face and all of them had drunk enough that no one had the mind to disagree when moving their group to the club was suggested.</p><p>At the club, Merlin and Arthur stuck together at the bar. The lack of any substantial lighting left them squinting at each other through shadows and the alcohol in their systems.</p><p>As the night progressed and they had shot after shot, their conversation devolved into more and more gibberish, yet they still easily communicated, though they garnered a few odd looks from the people around them who were still sober enough to see anything wrong with it.</p><p>It had to have been more than an hour of their half-shouts and flailing gestures over the music and mood lighting, before Gwen and Morgana emerged from the crowd looking sweaty and flushed but happy. </p><p>Their eyes were bright and a little unfocused, Gwen throwing her arms around Arthur as Morgana hung off of Merlin’s shoulders and ordered a pint of coke. She and Gwen split it, passing the glass between them, taking massive gulps.</p><p>Just as they drained the last dregs of the drink, the club speakers changed to pushing out a song that had been playing in the kitchen earlier at a skull-shattering volume. Wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands, both women had come to the same conclusion as they dragged both Arthur and Merlin to the dance floor.</p><p>The four of them were dancing in a squarish-circle, arms over one another, bouncing, screaming and feeling utterly alive. Arthur and Merlin met eyes and exchanged grins. The night was already so incredibly different, and so much better, than anything Arthur could’ve hoped for on the train that morning. </p><p>They stayed that way as the song on the speakers changed again, and again, and again - and as the crowd thinned slightly.</p><p>Arthur was exhausted and his feet hurt, and someone had spilled something sticky on his t-shirt and it was sticking to his back. Yet he felt energised in a way he hadn’t since he had the nervous energy associated with moving, two years ago starting Oxford. </p><p>Heading back to the halls, a snoring Gwen and Morgana, wrapped around one another - sitting on the seats to the right of him. Arthur was once again on the train, but this time, his companion was as attentive and awake as he was. </p><p>Which through the blur of drunkenness and sleepiness, was not very. It was the effort that counted.</p><p>The monotonous tune of public transport approved music rang in the back of his mind as he unintentionally followed the passengers shuffling down the aisle. He continued to shift and make small adjustments to his posture and position. </p><p>He looked on in jealousy as Merlin sat serene, still - looking as if he was at home on a couch, rather than on what may have been a chair designed in Hell, if you asked Arthur.</p><p>“What’s your secret, Merlin? How are you able to be comfortable on trains?” </p><p>There was a quick, mock glance around to check that no one was listening before Merlin leaned close, his breath warm and tickling the shell of Arthur’s ear. </p><p>“It’s the scarfs. They’re like constant, wrap-around pillows.” He tugged on the end of the blue material that he had shrugged on as they broke out into the chilled air from the club. </p><p>Chewing his lip lightly and leaning back so he could see Arthur’s expression, fingers tapping wildly on his denim-clad knee, he asked, “You could use me, if you’re uncomfortable? Like as a pillow?”</p><p>The performative British politeness was already on his lips before he stilled and unsteadily nodded. Arthur settled lower in his seat, precariously balancing the weight of his head on his neck - not wanting to look as if he was collapsing onto Merlin.</p><p>Though that’s all he wanted to do.</p><p>Luckily, Merlin seemed to see through his hesitance and pulled Arthur’s hand from where he was resting it on his lap and joined it with his. There clasped hands resting in the crease of the seats, between them. </p><p>Arthur felt warm and content, feeling worn leather under his cheek and watching as Merlin traced the passing landscape with his eyes through the window.</p><p>The walk from the train back to Merlin’s room was filled with stumbling and laughing up to the twinkling stars at nothing and everything. After one too many trips over non-existent grooves in the concrete, Arthur ended up on Merlin’s back, legs wrapping around his front.</p><p>Pulling on the deep blue ends of the scarf that had stolen his attention since the moment it had been put on, Arthur steered Merlin around the streets of Cambridge ignoring Merlin’s attempts to guide him in the right direction and Morgana’s haughty laughter as she deemed them useless. </p><p>The girls slinked up the stairs, too concerned with staying in the space of the other, yet navigating easily either way. The same couldn’t be said for Arthur and Merlin.</p><p>Whilst Merlin was no longer giving Arthur a piggy-back, forcing him to dismount just outside of the halls, Arthur was still mostly draped over his back. Forced to be a support system and with legs that were too long on the best of days, the boys’ adventure up the stairs was some form of disaster. </p><p>On the second to last step, the edge was further than Merlin’s drink and sleep muddled brain could judge. So he and his passenger fell, fast and hitting the ground with enough force to knock the breath out of them. </p><p>They landed with a bang and a significant ‘Ooof!’. Luckily, no one on Merlin’s floor came out of their rooms so if they disturbed anyone, no one complained. Scrambling up and for his keys as they reached his door, Merlin guided Arthur through.</p><p>Despite the guidance, Arthur still managed to trip over a potted plant and a stack of books on the way in. He and Merlin had barely kicked off of their shoes and closed the curtains before they passed out on the tiny bed wrapped up in each other.</p><p>Arthur woke up feeling ever so slightly dead and housing a dry mouth. His banging headache and general misery was lessened slightly when he looked down and saw Merlin using his chest as a pillow. </p><p>Normally he’d feel out of sorts to wake to another person he’d barely known a day, but it felt good to return the favour from the train. A deep seated happiness, the likes of which he had never felt, but the closest comparison he could manage was when he sat his parents down and told them he was studying history, not business.</p><p>It was that same feeling that made him want to stand on top of the world and ask the sun if it was proud of him. </p><p>Arthur was happy to lay down and will the pain behind his eyes away, but once Merlin woke, not for a second looking uncomfortable or awkward at waking in his arms - if only a little surprised when Arthur kept them there - he insisted they get up and eat something.</p><p>He had to admit, but Merlin’s suggestion to shower and change before they had breakfast, whilst painful to start - did make him feel more human. </p><p>They headed down to the kitchen for plain toast. There was a contented silence between them that Arthur wasn’t inclined to break. Instead he just admired Merlin, and felt honoured to see him a little less made up than usual. His hair was wet and curled at the edges and he had picked out a worn pair of sweats from his dresser that morning.</p><p>All of these things added up to be the reason for the bitterness that entered Arthur’s stomach as Modred, a thin man with dark hair, passed them on the stairs. Letting his hand drag down Merlin’s arm, and Merlin just continued on his way after saying Mordred’s name with a pleased grin. </p><p>The feeling increased as they walked through the halls and various people winked at Merlin from a distance or made rather crude gestures. Though the worst of it came just as they were about to go into the kitchen. </p><p>A girl with her in a braid met them, her eyes widening seeing Arthur and his proximity to Merlin, “He made it to breakfast? This is the equivalent of you proposing, a relationship that lasts longer than a couple hours - I’m being the best woman.”</p><p>“Ha ha ha, Freya. Just because you didn’t make it past the first night, no need to be bitter.” He moved past her to the fridge, gesturing Arthur over. Though Merlin called over his shoulder, “And you’re not getting anywhere near my wedding!”</p><p>Arthur barely heard her laughter after the waves crashing in his stomach. Merlin often had people in his room… just for the night? Was that his intention or was he a flirt?</p><p>By the time Merlin had placed the plate of toast in front of Arthur, he had already convinced himself that Merlin just saw him as a friend and that he was a bit flirtatious with everyone. </p><p>And Merlin preoccupied with breakfast and recounting last night from his point of view, was a second too late to see the disappointment fill Arthur’s eyes. </p><p>The next few hours before Arthur and Gwen headed back to Oxford, was spent as a quartet. For a few moments Arthur could genuinely say he had fun, but the majority of the time he was empty. Just going through the motions.</p><p>Sitting again in the quiet of the train, it seemed a lot longer than yesterday that he had been on the train never having met Merlin. Yet here he was, letting the last day he had with nothing on, his last day of peace, being ruined by him.</p><p>Unlike the journey to Cambridge, the journey back Arthur was the traveller distracted. He was withdrawn and in his thoughts too deeply to be pulled out. </p><p>Gwen noticed how.. flat, Arthur seemed. Unknown to him, as lost to the world as he was, she sent a text to Morgana explaining her concerns. </p><p>Back in the halls, Morgana was throwing similar concerned looks to Merlin. Merlin was deflated to a lesser extent, but disappointed all the same. </p><p>Arthur pulled away at the end of his trip, leaving before Merlin could give him his number and arrange to see him again.</p><p>It was left to Morgana and Gwen, who quickly put the pieces together, to plot.<br/>
Their plans for the boys came to fruition, as most things in their life seemed to, during the Christmas holidays.</p><p>Arthur was returning to his parent’s house, Gwen once again in tow (though this time firmly accompanying Morgana), for Christmas. Seeing the house, familiar though decorated, made a happy curl of safety, blanket his mind.</p><p>He knew it was stupid. He had barely known Merlin for a weekend, but for the near two months that had passed, he was nearly always in Arthur’s thoughts. Nearly everything he experienced was plagued with the question, ‘Would Merlin like this?’. </p><p>It was made worse by the constant Christmas spirit that filled town. The spirit of Christmas and giving that was almost permeable had led to the present for the man sitting in the bottom of his bag.</p><p>He told himself he didn’t know why he bought it. He didn’t know if he’d ever see Merlin again, or even if he liked him (lie, he did). But there was a part of him that was craving the feeling of being in Merlin’s room and just being in Merlin’s presence.</p><p>God, he missed him.</p><p>No matter how pathetic it was, part of him was tempted to ask Morgana to give it to him when she returned to Cambridge. But he was resolutely ignoring it, and all reminders of Merlin. </p><p>So, he was glad to be home where his parents, obligation, and his menace of a sister were there to distract him.</p><p>That all came crashing down as he and Gwen entered the home, taking off their outer layers, laughing and shaking off the cold. Arthur could hear it. </p><p>Merlin’s voice and his laugh. </p><p>Half of Arthur wanted to cry and walk back out the door and the other half wanted to run to the dining room and never let Merlin out of his sight again.</p><p>Gwen saw his face and seemed to freeze, weakly calling out, “Morgana, we’re here!”</p><p>Arthur felt his face fall when he realised she knew. He had told her about how he felt, that was, once he had realised what it was he was actually feeling. Now she had let him walk into a house that Merlin was in!</p><p>Gwen’s voice was soft, and her movements awkward, but her eyes were loving, “I’m just going to head in there. Hear him out, Arthur.” </p><p>As soon as she disappeared through the arch into the dining room, Merlin appeared out of it. </p><p>Hand rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck, his long frame was slouched, trying but failing to make itself small, “Do you want to go out to the garden?”</p><p>With a barely there nod, and because it was cold, Arthur grabbed his coat and shrugged it back on, feeling glad he hadn’t taken his shoes off yet.</p><p>The light covering of frost crunched under their steps, the only noise as they both looked anywhere else but each other. Their pattern of studiously ignoring the other, instead focusing on the crinkled leaves and breath clouds twisting in the sky, was broken by Merlin.</p><p>“Morgana told me what you thought.” He stopped where he stood, reaching out to grab Arthur’s hand in his own gloved one. </p><p>“Arthur, I’m not going to lie. I slept around. It was the first year of University and I had a tendency to sleep around, but it so happens that I have a habit of making friends with my flings.” Merlin let out a hollow sort of laugh, “Nearly all of them actually. Freya was before, when I was still trying to figure out who I was. Mordred though, he’s an example and there are other’s.”</p><p>Arthur took an intake of breath that stung his throat and chest. </p><p>Merlin seemed to wince, his eyes frantic as he realised how it all sounded, “No. Look, what I’m trying to say is - I like you - you’re not a fling and you're not just a friend. There’s no one else I’ve felt this way about and if you’ll have me, I’d love a proper relationship with you.”</p><p>Arthur watched the way his features were stretched and stressed. Merlin seemed earnest and honest and God did Arthur want to give this a try. Taking a second, Arthur remembered the way that Merlin felt like home, that he felt comfortable with him in a way he didn’t even realise was possible. </p><p>And just like that, it was if there was no question about it at all. “Yes.”</p><p>Merlin let out a relieved half-laugh, half-shout and pulled Arthur into his chest. Nose buried in the scarf he had spent so much time thinking about, Arthur was confident he made the right decision.</p><p>Their walk back to the house and the subsequent dinner, was just like the first day they met. They clicked, they were comfortable and conversation was easy. </p><p>Pressed close to one another, not exactly frantic to touch, but desperate for the intimacy that came with their closeness - they were content. </p><p>By the time dessert had come around, Merlin had won over both his parents and transcended into the magical realm as he had managed to get Arthur’s father to laugh.</p><p>Arthur couldn’t remember an instance in his life where Uther laughed at something someone said if that someone wasn’t Ygraine.</p><p>There were three couples sitting around the Pendragon dinner table and what a mad thought. Three couples. Arthur was part of a couple. </p><p>Arthur had a boyfriend, heck, he was a boyfriend. Merlin was his now and he was Merlin’s.</p><p>The family exchanged gifts on the actual Christmas morning, but Gwen and Merlin wouldn’t be with the Pendragon’s then. They’d be home with their own families, and so it was both siblings and their partners went their separate ways for the rest of the evening to exchange gifts. </p><p>Relieved now, that he had been crazy enough to buy the gift that day in town, Arthur brought it from the hall to where Merlin was sitting in the living room. The package was a long cylinder and he passed it over for his boyfriend (how crazy he could say that) to open.</p><p>As he let the gift drop out of the package to unravel it, there was a golden tapestry depicting an intricate stitching of a sword. There were the hues of a sunset, rich pinks and deep oranges all acting to accentuate the beauty of the golden sword. </p><p>Merlin gasped when he saw the entire work, looking up with eyes that were shiny and happy - and that’s all Arthur wanted.</p><p>Arthur explained what Merlin’s room was like for him and how when he first looked at it, before he really considered actually buying it, he had a small piece of that feeling sitting in his chest again. </p><p>That it gave him hope, the possibility that the tapestry could bring that back, was what made him buy it. And that it could act as the piece that brought Arthur into Merlin’s world of books, plants and tapestries.</p><p>The piece that brought their two worlds together, as much as the two of them had come together that first day, and reminded Merlin that Arthur was always there for him, whenever.</p><p>Arthur didn’t say it outloud, but privately he thought that he didn’t need the tapestry for those reasons now. At first it was a way for him to cope, but now he had the real Merlin, the real sense of home.</p><p>Now the tapestry only added to the feeling, it didn’t have to try and replace or imitate it.</p><p>As if Merlin could hear his thoughts, he said, ”Arthur you should keep it. Put it in your room and let it be the start of your own sanctuary, the first piece of me. And we can add to it together.” </p><p>Despite their limited time together, Merlin knew him well, “Don’t let your father’s strict, minimalist lifestyle seep into your room or life. It’s up to you now, if you want art on the walls - put it up.” His thumb brushed over Arthur’s cheek and settled just below his eye, Arthur cupped his own hand to it.</p><p>“Okay, I will. But I have another gift for you, and you actually have to take this one - not somehow find a way to make me take it.” He hurried to his bags in the corridor, grabbing the book that was on the top of his backpack.</p><p>“Take this, then. I bought it because the subject came up in an ancient history sub-lecture and I noticed you didn’t have it on your shelf in your room. It was one of my favourites, so you’ll have to excuse the notes in the margins, but it just has a way of making you feel as if you’re actually a part of the time.” Their knees were close together but not quite touching, allowed to now, Arthur closed the difference.</p><p>The fire casting an almost golden glow in Merlin’s eyes, the space between them getting closer and closer. Their lips brushing was a gentle thing, as was the space and time around them. </p><p>That moment in time was a soft, corporeal thing - alive as much as they were. A sum of all of the love and affection they were putting into it and more. </p><p>Putting his finger up in the almost universal signal of, ‘one second’ - Merlin leaned over and pulled a bag from behind the sofa. Leaning back as to make room, he pulled a long red scarf that unravelled the more it was removed from the non-descript brown paper bag.</p><p>A nervous, unsure smile made its way across Merlin’s face as if he was unsure about how the gift would be received now that it was out in the open. “I guess we had similar ideas. I wanted you to have this so you can be comfortable on trains when I’m not able to be there. When I can be though, I was hoping we could keep our current arrangement. If that’s okay with you?”</p><p>Pretending to think it over, but then throwing away the pretense, he let their lips brush again as he pulled the scarf into his own lap before looping it around his neck. “I’m very okay with our current arrangement, and as much as I love it, I’m not sure if it matches up to you.”</p><p>Sat in his living room, holding his boyfriend’s hand and exchanging slow kisses, Arthur couldn’t believe that almost a year ago today, ‘Gana got her love. </p><p>Another kiss as Merlin pressed his lips to his, a hand cupping his jaw and Arthur’s hair being messed up between the scrambling of dexterous fingers.</p><p>Arthur realised Christmas miracles liked the Pendragons.</p>
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